


patience.

by cl3rks



Series: guts. [1]
Category: Justified
Genre: F/M, Female pronouns, Late Night Calls, Oral sex mention, PTSD Tendencies, Possible alcoholism, Reader-Insert, alcohol mention, no rest for the weary, sex mention, unnamed ofc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 18:48:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13981161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl3rks/pseuds/cl3rks
Summary: For once in his life, he'd just like to sleep.





	patience.

**Author's Note:**

> this was gonna be an angsty piece of shit bc i was listening to kiss' beth but then heartbreaker by pat benatar and i hate myself for loving you by joan jett and the blackhearts came on after so like??? mmmm it just changed and its kinda peaceful idk plus this is kinda written like my jimmy tolan one i posted yesterday??? im trying smth new with my style and man i kinda dig it
> 
> this can be read as either a reader-insert or an unnamed ofc.

Tim wasn’t really in a place to be demanding things of those he cared for, especially his girlfriend. She was an angel compared to him, the ex-girlfriend of some ranger buddy of his that went to jail sometime ago for something he shouldn’t have been doing. Regardless, still an angel. She kept his head on his shoulders, knew how to calm him down, knew what to say and _when._ Most importantly, if he told her something about a case (that he wasn’t really supposed to tell anyone) she’d keep her trap shut. 

He’d started his relationship with her a couple of years ago, his buddy having broken up with her before he went in, asking Tim to watch over her. He did, but not exactly in the way his buddy had in mind – but he still managed. She was used to him getting up in the middle of the night, pacing the room as he mumbled to himself and checked the doors, checked the windows.

(She told him that it made her feel safe. Admittedly, when she felt him shift and the bed dip as he swung his legs out and stood up, she’d wake with a start. He was awful pretty with the moonlight washing over his fair but slightly tanned skin, the blue light giving him a gentle but serious cast as he checked the two windows in the room.)

She was used to the few extra bottles of beer in the fridge, told him it was nice he stayed stocked up. Then, to keep his habit under control, she’d make a list of how many bottles were there, she’d draw lines on the hard liquor and he’d be on a schedule with drinking water, so he didn’t drown his liver.

(He’d stumble into the room, drunk off his ass, sometimes. He’d try kissing her, try feeling her up, and she’d laugh stubbornly and push him onto the bed, pulling off his shoes and jeans only to begin wrapping him like a burrito in the blankets to keep him still. He’d sleep soundly, that way. She’d go get a bottle of water and some ibuprofen to put on his nightstand when he woke up.)

She was used to him leaving to go to work at odd hours because he’d suddenly gotten called in, telling him she knew how it was. She used to be an assisted living nurse, currently in-between jobs. She was patient with him, the two only getting to see each other at night or early morning when he was working on a case and, if they were lucky, when she dropped by with lunch.

(She remembers, fondly, the time he went down on her in some storage room full of old desks and bad chairs, his lithe body careening towards her, strong arms holding her legs as she moaned. She covered her own mouth, people passing the room with no knowledge of what was going on inside. His hair would be a mess after, she’d attempt to fix it but Tim would swat at her hands, kissing her so she could taste herself on his tongue, swearing she was the only _snack_ he’d ever need.)

But now? The two were sleeping soundly, Tim having come home from work not too long ago. She’d been waiting up for him, unable to sleep until he got back.

(He’d stripped himself of his clothes quickly, practically jumping on her as she grinned tiredly, making quick work of her sleep-shorts and one of his work shirts. She had rolled on top of him, his back aching here of late, nothing really helping. No amount of rest, ibuprofen, icy-hot, or massages did anything, she told him he’d need to go to a doctor. He never listened. Regardless, she rolled her hips against him, snapping back and forth with expertise as he bucked up into her, hands gripping her hips tightly.) 

His girlfriend was laying beside him when his phone started going off, the two being roused from their respective slumbers not too long after.

“Tim, get the phone.” She mumbled, rolling over to slap his naked shoulder. He grumbled something, eyes blinking a few times as she leaned over him and turned on the light, causing him to cry out at the sudden intrusion. She grabbed his phone and answered, biting her lip before she spoke, “Tim’s phone, may I take a message?”

“Baby, hand me the-“ She made a face as she put her hand over his mouth, her chest pressed against his arm and shoulder from where she was leaning against him. He was practically a furnace compared to her, but she was enjoying it before she sighed and handed him the phone. “What?”

“It’s Art, wants you to come in... they’ve got a lead or somethin’.”

Tim whined and held the phone to his ear, listening to his chief. “Yeah, yeah – I’ll be there.”

He hung up with little ceremony, swinging his legs out to pull on his boxers and jeans, his girlfriend watching him with her head leaned against her hand. She watched his abdominal muscles flex in the slightest as he bent down to pick up and pull on his white wife-beater and the flannel off his chair, yanking it on before doing the same with his boots. 

Sockless, too – he’d regret it later, but he didn’t really care, at that moment. 

She watched him roll his sleeves in the slightest, going for his badge and gun then his keys, wallet, and his phone.

“See you,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss her as she reached up and put her hand around the back of his neck and tugged on the short hairs there, doing something he liked. He made a soft sound as their lips pressed together, her eyes meeting his as she pulled back. “Be back… whenever.”

“Hurry, then.” She told him, dropping her hand as he said a simple, _‘love you’_ and in response she hummed and nodded slowly, tired smile curving at her lips. “You, too. Stay safe.”

(He rarely listened, but he did his best.)

**Author's Note:**

> hope ye enjoyed!!!!


End file.
